Taming The Fire
by raeofchaos
Summary: Denise hates Oklahoma. She hates school. She hates everything. Two-Bit decides that his new history partner needs some cheering up. And he knows just the guy to do it.
1. Prolouge

_Prolouge_

"Denny! Wake up!" I yawned and rubbed my eyes. I looked up to see my father, with light graying hair, and more wrinkles then a pug dog. He's not old, he's exhausted. He's been through a lot.

"What Daddy?"

"School," he grunted.

"Great, my first day at Hick High," I mumbled, aggravated. He ignored me. He's been doing that a lot lately.

"Be ready to leave at 8." He said, before walking off. I sighed and forced myself out of bed.

I took a shower, and brushed my teeth. I looked in the mirror on the bathroom wall at my elbow length light blonde hair, and bright blue eyes.

"I'm _really_ pale," I muttered. I bit my lip and but on my jet black eyeliner. It's the only makeup I wear, ever. Mom always said I was naturally pretty. I never quite believed her, but makeup is such a hassle anyways. I quickly brushed my hair, and then walked back through the hallway to my bedroom with my thick fluffy towel wrapped around me. I don't like this house, it's too small. I miss having my own bathroom connected to my bedroom. Of course I expected it, less income, smaller house. I never complained. Dad has enough on his mind. I sighed.

My room is too plain. White walls and a hardwood floor. Mattress on the side, with no bed frame because dad couldn't afford the next size up U-Haul. Even the bed was plain, with nothing on it, and the floor was covered with unopened boxes and suitcases. I planned on leaving the unpacking until last minute.

I opened the one suitcase that wasn't sealed tight, and dumped it out on the floor. I'm not exactly the cleanest of the bunch. I looked through the pile of clothes, and threw on a pair of blue skinny jeans and my Chuck Taylor's. Only men wear them, but I'd never really cared what they think. I'm the girl who refuses to wear a dress and heels to school. I threw on a white wife beater – also not exactly proper, and headed to the kitchen. The kitchen also looked extremely empty, like it wasn't even our new home. Dad was sitting at the round oak table, reading the newspaper at the newspaper. He looked up at my entrance.

"Ready?" he asked, and I bit my lip.

"I haven't eaten." Usually my dad makes pancakes. Blueberry, banana, or chocolate chip. Mom and I both always loved pancakes. He made them for us. But now she's gone.

"You can eat at school," he replied, and you could tell how hard he was trying to keep all of the emotion out of his voice. I sighed, and grabbed my red leather jacket as we headed out to his car.

I wasn't really paying much attention to the old lady blabbering on about the importance of the civil war. The kids next to me were more interesting. One who's hair was somewhere between red and brown, who definitely looked to old to be in a freshman history class, and the other whose hair was ridiculously blonde and greasy. They were talking about me, with no idea I was listening.

"So, Pony, do you think she's a greaser or a soc?"

"I don't know, but the fights have stopped anyways," replied the blonde, who was for some reason, called Pony.

"She sure looks like a greasy girl, but she came here in a Mustang," added the ginger.

"I don't know, Two-Bit," said the Pony, before turning back to the teacher.

I laughed and rolled my eyes before turning to the one called Two-Bit, people sure do have odd nicknames around here.

"I'm neither," I informed him, "I'm an original." Back in California most were beach bums, but we still knew what the greasers and the socs were.

He nodded with a crooked smile. "I dig. You wanna be my partner for the project?"

"Sure," I said, "Why not?" He nodded.

"Find me after school. You can meet they rest of the gang, they'll like a pretty little broad like you."

"I'm not little," I replied simply. He laughed.

"Of course not, doll face."

"I sure hope the rest of your gang isn't as annoying as you," I smirked. He wasn't really all _that_ annoying.

"You'll like Sodapop," he told me.

"You country boys sure got some weird nicknames." I said with a smile.

"That's his real name."

"Right," I said, unconvinced.

"What's yours?"

"Denise."

"I dig." I nodded. I hoped that I really do like this Sodapop. Moving to Oklahoma wouldn't be a complete waste.


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

He said to find him after school, but he didn't say where. I sighed and turned a corner. About the 50th corner I've turned, looking for Two-Bit. Of course, more white walls and posters with too many words.

I hate this school. I sighed again. Where the hell is the door out of this place? I kicked the wall angrily.

Pain.

"Damn it!" I screeched, jumping up and down on the other foot. After a few minutes the pain started to go away so I put my foot back on the ground and started walking again.

"Stupid no good mother fucking wall." I muttered, and then sighed running a hand through my hair. I'm so moody, that can only mean one thing,

"Looks like it's somebody's time of the month again!" I turned on my heel to see who just mirrored my thoughts.

"Two-Bit," I said, sweetly.

"Yeah babe?"

"Your mother didn't teach you manners did she?" He shrugged.

"Can't say she didn't try." I ignored his joke, I wasn't in the mood.

"Can we go now?" I whined.

"Say please," he teased me. I glared at his stupid ginger head.

"You're lucky you're tall. Now get me out of here." He snickered to himself, and then pointed to the direction he came from.

"You've been going the wrong way."

"Right." We started walking, and soon it got pretty quiet. Too quiet. I hate the quiet.

"So what's this Sodapop kid like?"

"He's nice," Two-Bit replied carelessly.

"I don't like nice people," I muttered.

"You don't like anything," he told me.

"I know," I said. I do like some things. Just not most. I wonder how he picked that up so quickly.

And finally we came to the door out of this place.

"There's something I like," I informed him. He laughed loudly. His laugh is annoying. We walked out the clear glass door into the way too bright outdoors.

_Two-Bit_

I ain't never met a broad so angry before. She needs some laughter in her life. I reckon she'd be great with Soda. He's the happiest guy you'll ever meet. He's always smiling bout something, he ain't nothing like this new girl. Denise. Nobody's mad like that naturally. She could be happy too. She's like a huge ol' fire that got to be put out. He'll enjoy putting out that fire. And sleeping with the fire.

_Denise_

I followed him across the street and saw a group of guys with greasy hair. I recognized one of them, bright blonde hair. I think he's the same guy from class. I squinted my eyes. Definitely. Pretty soon we were real close to them.

"Who's the broad?" Asked a different, older blonde, sucking on his cigarette.

"This is-"he began.

"Bits, I can speak for myself." He smirked at his new nickname. "I'm Denise. Some people call me Denny, but I prefer Denise."

"So, Denny, where you from?" He asked between puffs. I narrowed my eyes. This kid has some nerve.

"_Denise._ And California." Before he could answer me, the first blonde spoke up.

"That's real tuff, why did you come here."

"Hey Pony, I wasn't done speaking to the broad," the second blonde said heatedly. He turned back to me. "You got a boyfriend, Denny?" I don't like this kid.

"Two actually," I replied sarcastically. "I've also got three girlfriends and a dog." He narrowed his eyes at me before throwing his cigarette on the ground and angrily walking away.

"That's Dally," Two-Bit began to inform me, "don't mess with him, he's the toughest hood around. That right there's Pony, you already met him. And the shy one, that's Johnny."

"Hi Johnny," I said with a smile. He glanced up quickly, and ran a shaky hand through his greasy hair.

"Hi," he muttered. He looked back at his feet, shuffling nervously. I looked back at Two-Bit. Johnny's too shy. I don't like any of these people.

"You'll get used to him. Now come on, you got to meet Soda."

"I thought we were doing homework," I said questioningly. He nodded.

"We'll get around to it, don't worry." I sighed. I'm going to fail this assignment.

_Soda_

Two-Bit told me he'd be bringing some girl 'round when he gets off of school. Said her names Dennis or something like that. Said she's a real looker, real tuff. I told him I wasn't interested. I still love Sandy, I think. I reckon either way I couldn't even love another broad, so why bother?

I tightened the bolt on the Mustang I been working on most of the day.

"Soda! Steve! I brought the girl I told you about!" Two-Bit yelled at us. I sighed and wiped my greasy hand on my blue jeans.

"You were talking about me?" He was right, she does get mad easily. I laughed and looked up.

"Don't laugh at me," she said. Two-Bit was right, she is hot. Blonde, like all of the other girls he ever takes an interest in. But still she was different, better. Tough.

"I'm Sodapop Curtis," I said, grinning.


End file.
